


Holding onto Loss

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boggarts, F/M, Fear, Loss, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Parent(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29925792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Five years after the war, Millicent Bulstrode's first trip to Diagon Alley has unexpected consequences - making her face her fear and meeting a man she hadn't given a thought to since the war.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 2
Collections: 2021 DBQ Round One: Boggart





	Holding onto Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [TheSlytherinCabal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinCabal/pseuds/TheSlytherinCabal) in the [DBQ2021Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2021Round1) collection. 



> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R. and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended. The theme for this round of the competition was Boggart and my chosen pairing was Millicent Bulstrode/Ron Weasley. Comments/Reviews are encouraged by The Slytherin Cabal's Admin Team on all stories in Death By Quill, but comments left by readers are set to be moderated by story authors until the end of the competition in order to protect participants' anonymity. Thank you to my beta for their time and help.

**October 2003**

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Millicent asked for the third time, staying by the floo with indecision worrying her brow.

“You worry too much. It’s been five years, I promise it’s much better than you may expect,” Astoria repeated a little impatiently as she made sure little Scorpius was wrapped tightly in his blanket and held him close to her chest.

When she looked at her dear friend again, her annoyance softened a little. She tried to empathise with how it must feel to get back to England after so many years, with the last memories of the place shrouded in the blood and dust of war. She could tell the years spent in France had done her friend a world of good, especially with all that she lost during the war. But this hesitation was clearly rooted in a deep anxiety.

“Hey,” she reached for the brunette’s hand and squeezed it encouragingly. “It was difficult for a while, especially during the reparations period. But we’re much more settled now - Draco is a well-respected Auror, we have our place in society again. Pansy and her business are both thriving, and receive plenty of interest from witches of all backgrounds. The prejudice really has lessened; we’ll be fine.”

Millicent took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright, let’s go,” she waited for Astoria to go through the floo before following her, shoulders set back and chin raised in false confidence as she stepped foot into the Leaky Cauldron for the first time in five years. 

It was just as she remembered; the walls mostly off-white with a few spots smudged with coal and red brick peaking through. A few patrons were having lunch when they came in, and a familiar blonde nodded to them in greeting from behind the bar. 

“Hannah Abbott, she now runs the place as the landlady. She’s dating Longbottom, who took over from old Sprout as the Herbology teacher,” Astoria explained as she led the way out into Diagon Alley, holding the peacefully sleeping boy close to her chest in his sling. She really had to give it to the muggles for being clever where they lacked magic. 

“Oh, this is…” Millicent didn’t quite have words to describe the atmosphere of the street. 

Her last memory of Diagon Alley was filled with ash and smoke, many shop fronts closed and the few that remained open appeared grim in their emptiness. Standing at the entrance to the street, she could see that not only was every shop front open and bright, the street seemed to stretch before her, magically expanded into Horizontal and Eastward Alley as well.

Fortescue’s display was filled with gorgeous ice cream even this time of year, when people bought it to take home instead. Flourish and Blotts appeared to have added another floor to the tall building, having expanded since she last saw it. Gringotts was still leaning slightly on its foundations, but the previously-broken dome was sparkling with clear glass as people milled about on the steps before the majestic building.

Probably the most striking was the brightly coloured joke shop owned by George Weasley. The purple and orangealways appeared to both clash terribly and compliment each other at the same time. Decorated with spiders webs and floating pumpkins, it was clear that a seasonal sale was happening at WWW as well as other shops dotted along the street. 

They made their way through a few shops, picking up books, getting Millicent measured at Twilfitt and Tattings for a couple of new robes that she would need for her new position.

“Are you excited?” Astoria asked as they headed back down the street, their purchases shrunk in their handbags.

“I am and I’m not,” she answered honestly. “I don’t think anyone from the younger years will remember me, but it’s still going to take some time getting used to teaching in English instead of French,” she admitted. “I’ve also reviewed the curriculum and it needs a bit of updating. We submitted a new curriculum proposal but the Headmistress said we won’t know if I can use it to teach until after Christmas, too late to put any changes into the next semester. I’ll just have to pick up where Bathsheda Babbling left off, but I have an idea for creating some engaging extracurricularactivities for older students who are looking to go into curse breaking or magical theory,” she mused, her love for the subject evident.

Ancient Runes was a subject she was fond of throughout her time at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t until she completed her mastery two years ago and began teaching at Beauxbatons that she decided she had a genuine passion for helping others unlock its charms. She missed Britain but as an orphan of the war, her father and mother both murdered weeks before the final battle, she had little to return to other than the small London townhouse she kept on the advice of her solicitors. She couldn’t part with the memories of playing in that house during summer months with Astoria and Daphne. When both of her dear friends gave birth earlier in the year, she took it as a sign from the universe to think about relocating back home. That was how McGonagall learnt of her credentials and despite her initial plans to enjoy some time off before Christmas, she accepted a post teaching at Hogwarts starting next week to replace the much ailing Professor Babbling. It still felt strange, going back to Hogwarts. She wasn’t sure how she would feel there, but the tea she had with the Headmistress last week revealed that whilst it no longer felt like home as it did during her youth, Hogwarts was still a magical place, and the magics that rebuilt and renewed the wards felt welcoming. 

“Oh no,” Astoria tutted as Scorpius began fussing, holding onto her robes and pulling to get closer to his afternoon snack. “I’ll have to go back and feed him. Did you want to come with or stay to browse a bit more?” 

Still a bit weary but willing to push through and get comfortable living here, Millicent waved her off. “You go ahead, I’ll finish browsing. Would you like some company for dinner?” 

Astoria nodded fervently. “Absolutely. I hate being alone in the house when Draco’s away for a mission. Come round for dinner?” 

Millicent agreed and saw them off a few shops down before heading for Flourish and Blotts for some more reading. She was ready to head home when she spotted the colourful WWW façade again and decided it might be useful to pop in and get used to the new WWW products as she was sure to encounter them in her classroom and around the school.

They were nearing closing time and there were only a few families around with children running between colourful displays. The love potion fountain was still very much present in the corner, bright and pink, with a couple of younger witches looking through the small glass bottles with a glint in their eyes. The shelves were stacked with boxes of Skiving Snack Boxes, Feathery Flamingo Flame Fuzzers, and shoe boxes of Sticky Trainers.

On the other side of the shop, she noted the products took a slightly different tone. The Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, Weather in a Bottle, Thunder Crackers, even small Bombastic Bombs. Pranks that could be used in a sticky situation. She hesitated and reached for one of the Darkness Powders, wondering whether it would be a handy item for her purse. They’d been treated well in each shop they’d been to so far, but that didn’t mean she felt safe back home just yet. Maybe she could just get one and then get rid of it in a little while once she felt a bit more settled. Yes, that sounded like a plan.

Her gaze caught on another orb, the soft dark glow to it intriguing and - was that a rune? She leaned it to look closer to observe it when she was bumped into by one of the running children and barely mangled to steady herself on the shelf, one of the orbs crashing to the floor before her. Dread filled her belly at the damage and her cheeks pinked in embarrassment, but the colour swiftly left her when she saw the glass had cracked and a dark mist was forming at her feet.

She took several hasty steps back to get away from it but just as she thought she was safe, the mist swirled and before her laid the corpse of her father, dark eyes hollow and lifeless, staring at her from his twisted position, his Death Eater robes tangled around his ankles and mouth parted in surprise at the killing curse that he never saw coming.

“No…no...” she backed up against the shelf, ashen-faced and looking around desperately for help that wasn’t coming, the silence in the shop palpable as the remaining customers spotted the dark, familiar robes. 

And then it hit her. She looked up to confirm her suspicion and reached for her wand, trying to remember the spell to banish it. “Ri-riddikulus,” she managed, but there was only a loud crack and her father’s body turned into her mother’s, splayed on their grey velvet sofa in her favourite purple robes, limp and lifelessly staring at her. Even in death her gaze held some of its contempt for her only daughter.

A sob rose in her throat and she flicked her wand again, trying to make the charm stick this time. “Ri-riddikulus,” she said a bit more forcefully but there was another loud crack and she came face to face with a familiar redhead, face covered in rivulets of blood as he stared at her lifelessly from underneath a pile of bricks and rubble.

She felt nausea roiling in her stomach and had to clasp a hand over her mouth as she leaned back against the shelf, tears blurring her gaze.

“RIDDIKULUS!” The spell hit the body with precision and it dissipated into thin air. A mumbled reparo had the orb in one piece and a freckled hand reached to pick it up off the floor. “Alright, it’s closing time, let me see you all out,” the youngest Weasley brother stepped forward and shooed all the customers out.

Millicent managed to pull herself together a little, her grip on her purse still tight and shaky as she looked at the man standing before her.

Ron was silent as he observed her, trying to figure out why she looked familiar to him before recognition swept over his features. Tall brunette, generous plump curves and that familiar chin cleft - this was Millicent Bulstrode. That would explain the man in the Death Eater robes, but not his brother.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly after a moment.

She got a hold of herself and nodded, meeting the gaze of his vibrant blue eyes with a slight flinch. “I’m fine, I’m…so sorry. I didn’t mean to drop it and then the boggart…oh Merlin, I’m so sorry you had to see that,” she covered her mouth again, feeling her stomach rock.

“Hey, it’s fine. You could probably use a cup of tea. There’s a cafe just across the street, let me buy you a cup?” He suggested. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to do so but the need to understand why someone like her was haunted by the death of his brother won out.

She hesitated, trying to understand his motive but figured she owed him the benefit of doubt after stepping in to help her. He retrieved his jacket and locked the shop up before leading her to the cafe, his hand a light, leading touch on the small of her back. 

After their teapot and cups arrived, there was a moment of silence before she decided to ask what intrigued her. “How did you manage to catch a boggart and keep it in that orb?”

“We didn’t,” he replied, trying to find a way to explain the concept to her. “A boggart is a non-being that comes into existence due to strong human emotions. We developed a charm to replicate the nature of a boggart - the ability to understand your fear and display it. The difference is that it will not attack you or change into something funny, it will simply disappear after you speak the Boggart-Banishing spell, as that is keyed as the counter-spell to the charm.”   
  
She poured their tea and cradled her cup of lightly brewed black tea in her hands as he put three spoons of sugar and a generous splash of milk into his own cup. Sitting across from the man that used to be the butt of many Slytherin jokes yet became a war hero and successful businessman, she felt herself relax and her curiosity pique a little, surprised by the complex design of the product. “That’s…very advanced magic. And was that a rune I saw on the seal? It looked like Algiz.”

He looked surprised but nodded. “It is; the rune of defence, warding off of evil, a magical shield so to speak.”

“Merkstave, though, it indicates hidden danger and danger, loss to the divine and connection to life,” she pointed out.

“You know your runes,” he mused.

She chuckled. “I should hope so, otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to teach them to the next generation at Hogwarts.”

“You’re only just coming back, right? Malfoy mentioned something about you living in France,” he said, pushing the coppery fringe back from his slim face. 

She nodded and took a fortifying drink from her tea. “First time back in Diagon Alley since I returned. I just thought it would be useful to find out what I’ll be up against from the students when I got bumped into the shelf and broke the orb,” she explained, looking up to see him observing her quietly. “I really am sorry,” she added, not wanting to cause anyone offence or distress.

He nodded. “It’s not your fault. We don’t choose what we fear,” he acknowledged before his head leaned a little in contemplation. “Though...do you mind me asking-”

“Loss,” she replied before he could ask. “I fear loss itself, that’s why the boggart took several forms. It was switching between the different types of loss I fear.”

“But that doesn’t explain why it turned into my brother,” he pointed out.

She refilled her cup, her forefinger digging into the skin beside her thumbnail in an anxious gesture that she hadn’t quite skahen over the years. “The loss of my parents was sudden; an end to the little security I had with them, no matter how complicated our relationship was. I found them you know,” she relayed, gaze distant for a moment as she returned to the memory. “I came home for Easter and there they were. Father on the floor by the fire where he was dispatched for breaking the code, and mother on the sofa, her tea still tepid. They were killed by someone from the inner circle not half an hour before I got home,” she explained. “I was alone, tired of having to conform to the expectations on my house without actually wanting anything to do with the war. When the final battle came, they sent us to the dungeons but some of us sneaked out to help and fight, or to run. I was on my way to the apparition point with several of our first years when the wall was blasted up ahead and I saw your brother get hit. We had to come past to get to the exit, I tried to shield the girls but I wasn’t able to look away. He was the first person I really saw die before my eyes, and ever since I felt the last of my childhood dreams, my hopes, my connection to this world severed...”

He sat quietly, his gaze observant and thoughtful as he took in her words. She tried to find words but struggled to put her thoughts across clearly. “I guess it was a different kind of loss than yours. And ever since I’ve been afraid of losing the little happiness I’ve found for myself, and the few close friends that I still keep. I didn’t expect to come across another boggart here, but realised I feared loss back at Beauxbatons when one turned to me during a class I was supplementing. Today showed me that this fear is still alive within me.”

He remained silent for a few long moments before finishing his tea and turning his full attention back to her. “I’m sorry you had to go that, and for the fact that Fred’s passing has brought sorrow beyond just our family. He always just wanted to make people laugh, you know?” He mused, grief deepening the small lines around his eyes, making him look a bit weary and tired. 

“I think his legacy most certainly lives on. The shop is thriving and your creations are as interesting today as they were before the battle. I hope to laugh at Hogwarts with some of the students who use the pranks he helped design.”

The kind words appeared to settle something within and he nodded in thanks, leaving a couple of galleons on the table as they headed out.

“You know, we could always use the occasional rune consultation. Could I maybe call on you when we do?” He asked, hands in his pockets as they stood in the middle of the alley, for some reason unwilling to part just yet. 

She smiled, wondering whether perhaps something good was to come of the reminder of her loss today. “I would like that,” she nodded, the earlier fear a distant memory at the warmth in his gaze.


End file.
